


Fair Trade

by FoxCollector



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, I figure a teen rating is okay, Itama's run-around day, M/M, Pre-Slash, a toolbox, implied MadaTobi, possibly implied KawaKaga, promised ice cream!, thanks Madara, that nasty toolbox, there is a single f-bomb though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-03 23:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12157194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxCollector/pseuds/FoxCollector
Summary: When Itama woke up that morning, he hadn’t been expecting the day to be a complete mess. He probably should have seen it coming, growing up in the Senju household, but he’d never lost hope that there would one day be an ordinary day where nothing completely bizarre happened.





	Fair Trade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [puzzle_shipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/puzzle_shipper/gifts).



> So I heard you like IzuIta. Well, hopefully this is to your liking! I think I jammed too many things in here, but hey, I had fun writing, so I hope you have fun reading!
> 
> Happy birthday!!!! Enjoy some ice cream with Itama! <3 <3

            When Itama woke up that morning, he hadn’t been expecting the day to be a complete mess. He probably should have seen it coming, growing up in the Senju household, but he’d never lost hope that there would one day be an ordinary day where nothing completely bizarre happened.

            He’d been accused of being a hopeless optimist before. Which wasn’t fair. Hashirama was the hopeless one.

            Itama loves all of his brothers though, even when he thinks they’re being stupid.

            But if he had known what kind of day it would turn out to be, Itama was reasonably convinced he would have stayed hidden in his room and made Hashirama deal with everything.

            Then again, it isn’t as though he comes out of the mess empty-handed.

            But his big heart means that he ends up agreeing to help Hashirama, and that’s what starts everything rolling.

 

            “You want me to get what?” Itama asks.

            “My old toolbox. I’m supposed to have it for Kawarama when he gets up.” Hashirama blinks innocently over the newspaper conveniently in front of his face.

            Itama knows from experience this means Hashirama is hiding something.

            “Where is it?” Itama asks. He takes another bite of his pop tart, eying his eldest brother suspiciously.

            “I lent it to Tobirama,” Hashirama says casually. But he’s now right down behind the newspaper.

            There’s an ad for the circus on the other side of where Hashirama’s face is, and Itama thinks it’s slightly appropriate. In a good way. Probably.

            “Why can’t you just get it back from him?” Itama asks, slyly. He can already guess. If Hashirama is hiding, then it probably means he’s done something to tick Tobirama off, and Itama can always use that to his advantage.

            Hashirama twitches. “He probably won’t yell at _you._ Come on, please?” It almost sounds like a whine.

            “Fine, fine,” Itama says around a mouthful of poptart. “What do I get?”

            “My eternal gratitude?” Hashirama blinks at him with big brown eyes.

            “Ice cream.”

            “I can do that!” And Hashirama goes back to his newspaper.

            An intense love of ice cream is one of the things they have in common, and Itama is a sucker for spending the afternoon in an ice-cream haze.

            And for what, Tobirama in a snit? That’s nothing.

            Definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Tobirama is never mad at him and he could possibly get away with murder. He’s reasonably sure Tobirama would even help him hide the body.

            So he sets off to his other older brother’s room, shoving the rest of his breakfast in his mouth.

            Kawarama always sleeps in, which means he technically still has time, but Tobirama is always up early, so he figures he may as well just get the toolbox now and then he can go about the rest of his day. And eat ice cream.

            He knocks on Tobirama’s door.

            Silence.

            He pauses, wondering briefly if his brother is even there. Had he gone out? Or, hadn’t he gone out last night? Not that Itama remembers where or why. Maybe he hadn’t come home yet? But then, Hashirama had apparently run into him so… And then the door opens.

            His older brother grimaces as he leans against the door, his expression lightening just a bit when he sees Itama. “Oh. You.”

            “You were expecting Hashirama?” Itama puts his hands behind his back in his best impression of innocence.

            “Did he send you?” Tobirama crosses his arms.

            He looks decidedly worse for wear, Itama decides, like he hasn’t really slept. Probably spent all night reading or something.

            Being that Tobirama is his not-so-secret favourite, he has no qualms selling out his other brother. “Yep. He wants the toolbox.”

            “Of course he does.” Tobirama shifts awkwardly.

            “It’s for Kawarama,” Itama prompts.

            Because Tobirama might be fine with withholding things from Hashirama, but he won’t for either Itama or Kawarama. It’s something Itama has used to his advantage more than a few times.

            “…I know.” Tobirama shifts again, and it looks a lot like he’s avoiding eye contact. “I don’t have it.”

            “What?” Itama asks. He tilts his head in confusion. Tobirama might know his way around tools, but Itama has a hard time imagining what his brother would even _do_ with a toolbox. It’s not like there were any new bookshelves set up around the room.

            “I don’t have it. I left it somewhere.” Tobirama shrugs.

            “Somewhere. Can you…get it back?” Itama asks. This is only a minor setback. Really. Only a little less easy than it was 10 minutes ago.

            “I’d prefer not to.” The expression on Tobirama’s face is one of distaste.

            There’s a bruise on his collarbone that’s a nasty shade of purple, but Itama knows better than to ask where that came from. Probably just one of Tobirama’s bazillion martial arts classes.

            “Why not? Did you lose it?” Itama is perhaps slightly incredulous and rightfully confused. Where would Tobirama even have taken it? And why?

            “Of course not.” Tobirama looks affronted.

            “Then why can’t you get it back?” Itama asks.

            Tobirama seems to consider something for a minute. “Why don’t you get it back for me?” he asks in that way he has that always convinces Itama to listen to him. That nice sort of ‘only you can help me with this’ that always makes Itama hop into the mess of things.

            “Where is it.” Itama might have all but agreed, but he still knows when to be cautious. This can only end badly.

            “At the Uchiha house,” Tobirama says off-handedly.

            “What? Why is it there?” Itama always thought Tobirama was the sane one in their family; the one less prone to hanging out at the Uchiha household than either Hashirama or Kawarama.

            He never imagined he’d be the only sane one.

            “I took it over yesterday because Hashirama wanted to lend it to Madara.”

            “Oh. You should just tell him to get it from Madara then.” Itama shrugs.

            “He doesn’t know it’s still there. I may have…forgotten it. And I yelled at him already today because it’s none of his business,” Tobirama says.

            Itama has the feeling there is more going on than he originally thought. He probably doesn’t want to know. At the very least, he’s reasonably sure Hashirama did something that he was now being forced to deal with. Itama feels justified in planning to up his bargaining price to two heaping servings of ice cream, and not just any ice cream. He’s getting the good stuff.

            “Alrighty then. You owe me,” Itama says cheerfully.

            “Fine.” Tobirama goes to close his door. “Oh, and thank you.”

            Itama almost asks for what, but he guesses that it's probably because his brother is not a fan of Madara and will avoid him when he can.

            He weighs the pros and cons of telling Hashirama to go and get his own toolbox back from Madara, or going over to the Uchiha house himself. On the one hand, he could just let Hashirama deal with Madara the human cactus and collect his ice cream reward for finding the information. On the other hand, he could go down there himself and maybe see Izuna, Madara’s significantly more attractive younger brother.

            It’s not like he’s got any plans beyond the grand ice cream palace later in the afternoon. So he decides to just go down and collect the toolbox himself.

            And it is absolutely not just because Izuna might be there. Nope.

           

            When he knocks on the door, there’s a certain amount of tension in his gut. He’s more nervous than he should be, by all rights. He’s been there before, even if he usually avoids the place because of the way his face turns red and he can’t think properly when Izuna is there.

            Madara opens the door like it has personally offended him. “What.”

            “Um, hi.” Itama smiles his brightest.

            “Oh, the littler Senju. What do you want?” Madara looks a lot grouchier than usual, and the way his hair is sticking up suggests he only just clawed his way out from the abyss of his coffin-bed.

            “I’m here on behalf of my brother, you see –” Itama starts.

            “Fuck your brother,” Madara all but spits.

            “Woah.” Itama thinks his jaw hits the floor.

            “You can tell that stuck-up” Madara starts.

            “Hashirama?!” Itama attempts to drown out whatever insults Madara is pouring over his beloved older brother.

            “that if he wants to just _leave_ right – wait, what?”

            “I’m here for Hashirama? Not Tobirama? Which one are you mad at?” Itama squeaks.

            “Oh. Well, if it’s for Hashirama, then, what are you looking for?” Madara looks a bit less homicidal. He leans casually against the doorframe, like he wasn’t just spitting vitriol.

            Itama doesn’t trust him.

            “Um…the toolbox that Tobirama brought over.” Itama wishes he had a crucifix. He feels like it might actually work on Madara.

            Madara scowls. “Don’t have it.”

            “Are you kidding me?” Itama is dumbfounded. “Why does everyone keep giving it away?”

            Madara looks at him curiously. “Calm down, littler Senju. Izuna has it. He just ran out to fix up Kagami’s bike. Didn’t think you’d want it back it so fast.”

            “Kawarama wants it, I think, and Hashirama said he’d get it. Honestly, I’m confused at this point.” Itama heaves a sigh.

            Madara almost looks amused. “Well, he should be back before too long. So you’re welcome to hang around until then.”

            Itama eyes Madara cautiously. He was ready to kill someone only a few minutes earlier, and Itama isn’t sure he’s willing to risk his neck for a toolbox. “What’d you need a toolbox for, anyway?”

            “Obito stole mine and went camping with it. Needed to fix up some pipes.”

            It would be just like Madara to be too proud to call a plumber to deal with anything and insist on doing it himself. Which almost made it funny that he needed to use Hashirama’s toolbox. Then again, Hashirama was usually the exception to the ‘I don’t need help’ rule. Madara must have been ticked when it was Tobirama who showed up and – ohhhh. Itama feels like he understands a little more. They’d probably gotten into another argument.

            “Ohhh.” Itama stands there, shifting awkwardly. “Cool…So. You’re mad?”

            Madara looks him up and down. “Senjus.”

            “Yep!” He turns on his sweetest smile.

            All the same, Itama doesn’t really want to hang around with Madara, particularly not if he’s angry. He’s just thinking about leaving and maybe killing time at the bakery on the street-corner, when he hears a car pulling up.

            He turns to see Izuna’s car in the driveway, and turns away immediately. He’s fairly sure he’s already starting to turn red. Madara raises an eyebrow at him, a small, decidedly sinister smile curving his mouth at one corner.

            “Oi, Izuna,” Madara yells when Izuna climbs out of the car. “There’s a Senju here for you.”

            Izuna looks up, bewildered, and then his eyes fall on Itama and his lips curl up at one corner in a frightening echo of his brother. Though decidedly hotter. “Itama! What can I do you for?”

            And does Izuna _know_ what that sounds like? Because Itama’s heart stutters a bit. “Um, toolbox.”

            _Why_ did Izuna have to be so _handsome_?

            “What, this?” Izuna goes into the back of the car and pulls out Hashirama’s old red toolbox.

            “Yes, that.” Itama thinks he is doing a reasonable impression of a not-crazy person, even if he now can’t _not_ look at Izuna.

            “Well.” Izuna pauses, assuming a clearly faux-thoughtful pose. “I mean, I guess you can have it, but I’m probably gonna need something in return.” Izuna comes to stand before the step leading up to the front door.

            Madara snorts and Izuna shoots a glare at him over Itama’s shoulder.

            “Alright, fine,” Madara says. “I’m going. Hey, do me a favour? Tell Tobirama to sit down.” And Itama hears the door shut behind Madara.

            Izuna makes a face. “You’ll have to forgive my brother, he has no manners.”

            “Sure,” Itama says. And that didn’t come out quite right. “I mean, he wasn’t that bad.”

            Izuna snickers. “Well, anyway, like I was saying, I was thinking we could maybe make a trade. I’ll give you the toolbox…”

            Itama nods, eyes flicking down to the red box and back up to meet Izuna’s suddenly much closer eyes, because when did Izuna step up there? His breath catches and he’s hanging onto that damn Uchiha’s every word.

            “And you give me a kiss,” Izuna finishes.

            “Sure,” Itama says, and wants to slap a hand over his own mouth, because he at least wanted to be cool enough to pretend to think about it. It’s times like this when the fact that he’s related to Hashirama really comes through and he hates it. He’s a bit mortified, and he mentally re-processes the exchange to make sure he heard that right. A kiss? Absolutely.

            “Really?” Izuna seems stunned. And it’s like Itama can see his brain short-circuiting and sending sparks out of his ears.

            And well, that works in Itama’s favour. So he pulls up his nerves, and leans in, and presses their lips together in a brief kiss.

            It’s sweet, but altogether too short, and Izuna is still a bit stunned. Itama gets his hands on the toolbox and pulls it gently from Izuna when he pulls back.

            Izuna seems to shake the fog from his brain just as Itama is drawing back. “Wait, hold on, that’s not fair, I wasn’t ready.”

            “Well, that’s too bad. You’ll have to trade something else for another one. Maybe dinner?” And Itama manages to stay cool as he steps past Izuna and heads down for the end of the driveway. He’s mentally doing cartwheels and he thinks maybe his face is going to be permanently red. But it’s times like that when the fact that he’s related to Tobirama comes through, and he certainly sounds calm enough.

            “Dinner is good. I can do that.” Izuna nods. “I can call you?”

            “Please do.” And Itama makes it all the way to the end of the block before he finally has to raise his fingers to his lips, because he actually kissed Izuna, and the prospect of a date was much better than the ice cream he’d been promised.

           

            He makes it back home while Kawarama is eating breakfast. It’s about 11 by then, and it’s always impressive how late Kawarama can sleep in, but 11 is comparatively early.

            Everyone is in the kitchen when he walks in, and Itama can’t fathom the chain of events that lead to that happening, but it doesn’t matter. He has a date with Izuna.

            Hashirama is sulking at the other end of the table from Kawarama, newspaper lying flat on the table as he’s apparently given up any pretense of hiding. Although he is pointedly avoiding eye contact with Tobirama, who is leaning forward against the counter, phone resting in front of him like he’s daring it to ring.

            “Good morning!” Itama declares as he plonks the toolbox down on the table before his brothers.

            “Oh, sweet,” Kawarama declares around a mouthful of cheerios. He perks up a bit, reaching out with one hand to pull the box a bit closer, popping it open.

            “Yep. You’re welcome,” Itama says to everyone, collectively. Those jerks.

            Hashirama smiles sheepishly and Itama wonders how much ice cream he can get out of the deal.

            And also what he can get out of Tobirama.

            “This is great, now I can go over and fix Kagami’s bike.” Kawarama shuffles through the contents briefly, and then shoves more cereal into his mouth.

            “Uh…” Itama pauses. “Yeah. About that.”

            May as well get everything out. Because Itama might be the nice one, but that doesn’t mean he can’t cause trouble. He’s one of four brothers after all. And he certainly owes them all a bit of mayhem.

            “Maybe if you hadn’t slept in, you would have been able to fix Kagami’s bike before Izuna did. So I guess you’ll have to try again. Maybe you can bring flowers.”

            Kawarama stops mid chew.

            “Oh, and Tobirama, Madara told me to tell you to sit down,” Itama says brightly.

            Tobirama turns red.

            “Hashirama, we’re getting ice cream now. Run.” And Itama makes for the door without looking to see if his oldest brother can make it out behind him.

            Maybe he can go out for ice cream with Izuna instead.


End file.
